


i don't mind losing a friend to a friend

by aimerai



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Author Chose Not To Tag For Maximum Surprise, M/M, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 06:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15113411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimerai/pseuds/aimerai
Summary: Phil only notices because he's paying attention, the way Jér sidles over to Alex, his entire body radiating barely contained excitement. “I found a place we could check out,” Jér tells Alex in an undertone.Alex must know what that means because he perks right up and beams at Jér super brightly. “You did?”Jér nods, his curls bouncing a little. “There's a market a few blocks from the arena, it looks good.”Alex is grinning so brightly that Phil wants to grin too, even as his heart aches. “After practice?”Jér grins, crowding into Alex’s space and ruffling his hair while Alex mock-protests. “It's a date, mon trésor.”Phil doesn't feel much like smiling anymore, even though Alex is still grinning radiantly, one hand wrapped around Jér’s wrist, trying to keep him away from his hair with no success.





	i don't mind losing a friend to a friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heybernia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heybernia/gifts).



> Dear Heather, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> Title from The National's Reasonable Man (I Don't Mind)

Phil has never lived away from home like this, and he’d thought the homesickness had missed him entirely, especially because he calls his parents every day, but no, it chooses to hit him a couple of months into his life in Rouyn, on a roadie in Cape Breton, in the hotel late at night, and now he can’t sleep. He lets out a heavy sigh, sure that Lauz is asleep by now, but the covers on the other bed rustle a bit.

“Phil?” Lauz asks softly, barely more than a whisper. Everything about him is soft, and he’s good in a way Phil doesn’t know how to quantify, but Phil still doesn’t want to explain this to him. It’s not like Lauz will make fun of him, but it’s embarrassing. 

Phil doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are welling up with tears now. He’s on a team but he feels so alone, sometimes. He misses home, and Cape Breton is the Maritimes, but it’s not home the way New Brunswick is, and that just makes it worse. The bedsheets on the other bed rustle even more, and then go silent. 

Phil lays in the silence, trying to regulate his breathing and blink away the moisture in his eyes. Some of it spills over, trailing across the side of his face and sinking into the pillow, but it’s fine. The hand that lands on his shoulder surprises him. Phil rubs the side of his face against the pillow first, to get rid of the evidence, and then turns, blinking until he can make out Lauz’s concerned face in the dark. “Are you okay?” Lauz asks, in soft, sleepy French.

Phil wasn’t planning to tell him, but Lauz is so kind that it just spills out. “I’ve never lived away from Moncton.”

“Oh,” Lauz says, blinking. “Homesick?”

“Yeah,” Phil says, voice small. 

“I’m sorry,” Lauz says. 

Phil shrugs, even though Lauz won’t be able to see it. “It’s okay. You can’t do anything about it.”

“’S not okay,” Lauz says, frowning. He runs a hand through his already messy curls, and seems to reach a decision, nodding determinedly to himself. “Move over.”

Phil shifts, and Lauz untucks the sheets and bedding until he can fit himself in the space Phil’s made. Lauz turns onto his side, and frowns at Phil. “Can I cuddle you? Would that make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Phil says, hardly daring to breathe. “I mean, I won’t be uncomfortable.”

Lauz takes him at his word, inching in closer and then draping an arm over Phil. “I don’t know if it will help you, but it used to help me when I was sad.”

It’s a very simplistic way of looking at the problem, but the truth is, Phil already feels better; Lauz hasn’t invaded Phil’s space, but he’s made himself a comforting presence in it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fortin was at camp and part of preseason last year, but Phil didn’t really talk to him much then, because he’s a forward and Phil isn’t. This year, Fortin is staying and playing out the entire season, and Phil is settled, but two of their rookies this year are Jer’s brother and one of Jer’s best friends, so Jer’s been spending a lot of time with them. He still has time for Phil, but it’s no longer the codependency they had last season, and it’s ridiculous to feel like he’s losing Jer, but he does, a little bit. And Fortin knows Francis, but he still looks a little adrift, keeping to himself, quiet and solemn. 

Phil tells himself that that’s the reason he goes to say hello, but he’s a little lonely too, and Fortin has a nice feel to him in the same way that Phil had known that Jer would be kind. “Hey, wanna grab lunch?” 

Fortin blinks at him, a little surprised, but then he grins at Phil. “Sure. Your French is trash, by the way.”

Phil doesn’t even process the chirp at first, because Fortin’s smile changes his entire face, and it’s dazzling, the kind of smile that makes Phil want to smile. Fortin glows when he’s happy, and Phil decides right then and there that he’s going to keep Fortin as a friend, even if Fortin doesn’t know it yet. His brain catches up with his ears, and he splutters. “My French is good enough.”

“Good _ enough _ ,” Fortin repeats, smirking at Phil. “See, even you admit it.”

“Well, if you’re going to be like that…” Phil trails off, hopes that his smile is enough to convey to Fortin that he’s just joking, because he really, really wants to be friends.

Fortin sucks on his lower lip. “Too late, you already invited me to lunch,” he says, and flashes Phil another smile. Phil doesn’t know how he ever thought Fortin was solemn, because the way he smiles makes everything around him brighter, like he’s infected everything around him with his happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil’s first inkling of something happening comes when Francis calls Alex out in the locker room, still early in the season. “Where'd you go yesterday? You came back two minutes before curfew looking like you ran halfway across the city.”

Alex is turning pink already. “It's nothing, don't worry about it.”

Francis doesn't believe him and Phil isn't surprised; Alex is turning steadily redder and not looking Francis in the face, concentrating on pulling his laces tighter. Francis is already asking more questions, about where and who and how, when they're not at home or in Blainville, and Alex’s ears are bright red even though he’s telling Francis to let it go. It’s the worst thing he could’ve said, because now everyone knows that there’s something up. Most of them will forget about it, but Phil doesn’t, because for a moment, just before Alex said that it was nothing, he’d started smiling from the inside out. He wants to know why, because Alex is breathtaking when he’s that kind of happy, glowing with it, pink and pleased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil texts Jér after Alex says he can’t do movie night. He feels like he hasn’t seen Jer in a while, and part of it is his fault, because the moment he realised he had a crush on Jer, he’d started distancing himself a little. Not a lot, not enough to be noticeable, but just enough that Phil gets a break from the way his emotions flip flop in Jer’s vicinity. There’s--he knows there might be something there, between him and Jer, but there’s something for Phil in Alex, too, and he’s not capable of choosing one over the other and making the first move himself, because whoever he doesn’t pick, he’ll feel like he’ll have done wrong by. 

Jer calls Phil, and Phil picks up almost immediately. “Hey, Jer, what’s up?”

“I can’t hang tonight,” Jer says, sounding upset. “I really have to do this thing, and I’m about 45 minutes out, and probably getting back in right before curfew.”

“No, no, it’s okay; I should’ve asked you earlier,” Phil says, his heart sinking. He really doesn’t want to be alone.

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to do brunch at our regular place tomorrow. My treat,” Jer says, and he sounds like he’s smiling. “I feel like I haven’t hung out with you in ages.”

“Sounds good,” Phil says. Their regular place for brunch is a little upscale, but has omelettes that are to die for and mostly diet-friendly, and usually Jer only takes him there when he feels like Phil is down, or, apparently, because he thinks he owes Jer. “I’ll see you there?”

“I’ll pick you up,” Jer says immediately, and Phil hears his car door slam, so apparently Jer’s arrived at wherever he is. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“No, that’s fine. 10am good?” Phil asks.

“10am’s perfect,” Jer says. “I should go.”

“Bye Jer,” Phil says, smiling a little.

“Bye Phil,” Jer says, and just before he hangs up, Phil swears he hears a familiar voice say ‘hi Jer.’ He doesn’t focus on it too much, figures Jer might have decided to go to Val d’Or for the evening, and instead wonders why meeting Jer for brunch sounds so much like a date, all of a sudden, what with Jer picking him up and paying for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of weeks later, it becomes increasingly clear that something’s up with Alex, between how secretive he’s become recently, and the near-constant glowing. He’s so happy, and Phil is glad, Phil is so happy to see Alex happy, but he wants to know why so he can make sure Alex is always this happy.

Francis and Alex are having some kind of captain-to-teammate talk where Francis seems to be asking way too many questions and Alex is not answering any of them satisfactorily. Phil really was just leaving, but maybe he drifts by them to listen in, curious as fuck. He has no shame, honestly. 

“Bro, you could've just said you were with Lauz,” Francis says.

Alex shrugs at him. “But you didn't need to know, you were just being a nosy fuck.” The corner of his mouth is ticking up into a smug smirk, but Francis doesn't respond to the chirp at all, his face suddenly looking almost worried.

“Wait, are you and Lauz together?” Francis asks.

Alex looks about as shocked as Phil feels. “Me and Jér?”

“I mean, I know you have your thing but you guys have been spending a lot of time together and you're both so fucking soft.”

Alex turns bright red, vivid and startling. Phil stumbles from the force of it, and both Alex and Francis automatically turn to him, but Alex is still that beautiful, distracting bright red. Phil is completely helpless, because Alex smiles on top of it, completely devastating. “Feet not working right today, Phil?”

And Phil’s mouth responds before his brain catches up. “Guess I’m just falling for you.”

Fuck. He wants to sink into the ground. Francis looks like he's about to watch the dog die in a movie. Normally, he'd be amused, but considering the conversation he was just having with Alex, this is probably his worst nightmare.

Alex blushes. “You—I—Gotta go find Jér, bye!” He tears out of the locker room like he's being chased, still that bright red.

Shit.

Francis looks at Phil. “Sorry, we were having a heavy conversation. I think you just surprised him, though.”

Fuck.

~~~~~~~~

Alex comes into the locker room with teeth almost chattering, rubbing at his arms. His face is flushed red from the wind, and he's only wearing a tee shirt, but he's still glowing.

“Did you forget that it’s actually cold outside?” Sills chirps.

Alex glares at him and throws up his middle finger. “My sweatshirt was supposed to be in my car, fucker. It was in my car yesterday, and I was in a hurry this morning.”

“So, what, someone broke into your car?” Sills asks, eyebrows raised.

Alex is rubbing at his arms. “I don't know; it's my favourite sweatshirt.” Phil knows exactly which sweatshirt it is, too. Alex has let him use it before, folded up, as a pillow on bumpy road trips, and Alex always looks cozy and happy when he’s wearing that bright red. It's well on its way to being Phil’s favourite sweatshirt.

“Wait, it's your favourite sweatshirt?” Francis butts in. “Dude, you don't let anyone touch that.” Except he did, and Phil doesn't want to read into it, but it's so hard not to.

Alex turns an absolutely black glare onto Francis. “I  _ know _ , because you're all disasters.”

Normally Alex doesn't have bad moods; he just gets quiet and blue and long-suffering and makes Phil feel miserable by proxy. But he's really upset this time, and no one likes seeing Alex upset, mostly because he usually looks like he's about to cry. Immediately, there's three or four boys shouting out that they'll help Alex find it, Phil among them, and the rest are yelling creative things to do to the person who stole his sweatshirt, and Alex looks less like he's about to cry. Francis and Sills have both draped their arms over Alex, and they're both doing their absolute best to get him to smile and he is, a little, but he's still upset in a way that's rolling off of him and making Phil upset too. Phil’s pretty sure the reason the locker room is so loud and exuberant now is because they can all feel it, how Alex is trying not to be down but is.

Jér chooses to come into that chaos, smirking a little, and there's something red in his hands that he immediately throws at Alex. “You left that behind yesterday.”

Alex catches it reflexively and Phil knows what's coming; he wants to disappear just so he doesn't have to be here for this. Alex shakes it out and it's his missing sweatshirt. The locker room doesn't go dead silent, because it's a locker room, but there's a noticeable drop in volume as Alex smooths it out, first looking confused and then understanding. He smiles at Jér. “Thanks, I forgot I gave it to you.”

Jér's smirk has softened into a small but genuine smile. “I'm not surprised you forgot, but I'm glad you had a good time.”

And this is what Phil didn't want to hear, because it's painting a picture that Phil won't be able to ignore.

~~~~~~~

Phil only notices because he's paying attention, the way Jér sidles over to Alex before their morning practice, his entire body radiating barely contained excitement. “I found a place we could check out,” Jér tells Alex in an undertone.

Alex must know what that means because he perks right up and beams at Jér super brightly. “You did?”

Jér nods, his curls bouncing a little. “There's a market a few blocks from the arena here, it looks good.”

Alex is grinning so brightly that Phil wants to grin too, even as his heart aches. “We’re going now?”

“After practice, but I’m glad you’re excited,” Jér grins, crowding into Alex’s space and ruffling his hair while Alex mock-protests. “It's a date, mon trésor.”

Phil doesn't feel much like smiling anymore, even though Alex is still grinning radiantly, one hand wrapped around Jér's wrist, trying to keep him away from his hair with no success. He doesn’t mind much, though, going by how pink he is as Jer’s fingers rake through his hair. Phil is starting to mind, though, not because the two of them are happy, but because they’re happy without him, and he’s alone again in a way he hasn’t been since way, way back, the early part of his rookie season.

Phil excuses himself to the bathroom and lets himself cry for a few moments, silent and desperate. He’s wiping the tears as the door opens. 

“--I thought it would’ve been not this, though,” JC is saying. 

Whoever he’s with sighs. “It would’ve been Phil and Lauz, or Forts and Phil.” Julien. Phil should’ve guessed, but this is an awful conversation to be overhearing.

“Except it’s Lauz and Forts, and they’re happy, and I’m happy for them, but Phil…” JC trails off. 

“It’s kind of--” Julien starts, but Phil wipes away the rest of his tears and hopes his eyes aren’t too red, unlocking the door to his stall. He doesn’t want to hear this. He doesn’t want this to be shoved in his face. He doesn’t want to know what it’s kind of.

Both JC and Julien turn pale when they realise who’s in the bathroom, but it’s really on them, and Phil is not in the mood to be nice, nodding at them as he quickly washes his hands and leaves.

~~~~~~

“Movie night?” Alex asks Phil after practice.

“Sure,” Phil says, grinning.

Alex’s billet mom lets Phil in, making a couple minutes of idle chit-chat about the season and his classes, before finally telling him to go downstairs.

The sight that greets him is Jér and Alex sitting on the couch, Alex with his legs sprawled across the couch and his feet resting in Jér's lap. Jér is watching something on the TV screen that looks like it might be Disney, and his thumb is digging into the arch of one of Alex’s feet. “Better?” Jér asks.

“So much better,” Alex sighs. “You're the best.”

“No problem, anything for you, mon trésor,” Jér says, smiling down at Alex’s feet in his lap. “You looked like you were having a hard time today.”

Alex had looked fine today, maybe a notch bluer and less cheerful than his new usual, but Phil had chalked it up to it being a Monday. Apparently not. Phil shouldn't be eavesdropping like this anyway. He comes the rest of the way down the stairs, and both Alex and Jér look up, surprised.

Alex smiles at him. “You're here just in time; I was going to decide on takeout.”

“I’ll leave,” Jér says.

“You don't have to,” Alex says, before glancing at Phil like he has to make sure it's okay.

“You can be without me for a few hours; it's fine. You invited Phil, anyway,” Jér says, sounding unbothered, but his body is radiating tension. He really doesn't want to leave, and Phil doesn't want him to leave, even though it's going to hurt.

“Please stay,” Phil pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. It hurts, but it'll hurt more if he makes Jér go. He swallows and keeps talking. “I mean, only if you want to, but please stay. Don't leave just because I’m here.”

It feels like something is about to break, and for all that sitting with the two of them is going to hurt, if Jér leaves this room Phil might burst into tears.

“I want Chinese,” Jér says, settling back onto the couch.

Phil sighs in relief, tries to keep it quiet and maybe fails, because Jér is reaching behind him and pulling Phil around the couch. He still has Alex’s feet in his lap, but he makes Phil sit down in front of him on the floor, his leg a solid line of heat against Phil’s back.

“Let him sit on the couch,” Alex protests, trying to swing his feet out of Jér's lap, but Jér's holding on tightly to his ankles.

“I would,” Jér says, very earnestly to Phil. “But Alex’s legs have been cramping up all day, and—”

“That doesn't matter!” Alex protests, and he's starting to look upset.

“Yes it does!” Phil and Jér say simultaneously.

“I'm serious, if it helps you; I don't care,” Phil reassures him. “Cramps are painful.”

He has two cute boys beaming at him: Alex in relief and Jér in approval, and he's only human; he can't help his blush.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone else is starting to notice the things Phil already knows. Jér comes into practice and tosses a bag at Alex. “Got you something.”

Alex opens it then and there because normally people don’t give nice things in the locker room, but ends up pulling out a jewelry box, long and flat. He looks up at Jér questioningly but Jér just beams at him. Alex opens the box, and tips out a gold chain into his hand, links sparkling in the locker room light.

“You said you didn't have one,” Jér says, suddenly shyer than he had been.

Alex is smiling this wavering smile; Phil’s afraid he's going to start crying, and the two of them are attracting notice from the others now. Zach is staring at his brother like he doesn't know who he is, and at least three other boys are staring at Phil. Alex holds it out to Jér. “Put it on for me, please.”

Jér takes it from him, his eyes crinkled with his delight, as Alex turns so that Jér can clasp it shut. It’s more delicate than Phil would have imagined it to be, and Alex immediately reaches up to touch where it hangs right over his heart, smiling hard enough to power a whole city.

“Thank you,” Alex says quietly. Phil aches with the sincerity of it, but what else is new? He always aches nowadays. Absently, he reaches up to rub his chest, and ignores the two or three knowing glances directed his way. They don’t know; they only think they know how Phil feels. It’s not hard to see them when they’re happy, because Phil really is happy that they’re happy. He loves the way Jér sort of melts when he's happy, gets soft and radiant while Alex glows, flushed pink and smiling bright enough to stop your heart. It’s just hard to see them together, their easy familiarity, the way they really are a team, the two of them against the world. They trade food from each other’s plates and elbow each other when playing video games and they’re both so fond that it makes Phil’s teeth hurt. Jér dotes on Alex, and Alex blossoms under the attention. Phil has never seen him smile this much; the only times that come close are the moments after a win, and even those aren’t quite it.

Practice is practice, a good distraction, even though Phil can see the two of them glowing out of the corner of his eye the entire time, making his heart twist painfully in his chest. He goes back to his billets immediately afterwards, not in the mood to socialise, and lets himself flop onto the bed. He’s not sure why he starts crying, heaving sobs that are loud and painful and exhausting, but that’s a lie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil wakes up in a full bathtub with a giant mermaid tail in front of him and screams when it moves as he tries to panic away from it. It’s pretty, hundreds of dappled shades of pink turning into red by the time it gets to the the end of the tail, capped off with a crimson fin. The problem is it's also part of him and Phil is not a mermaid? Merman? He’s not a merperson or whatever the terminology is; he’s totally allowed to freak out.

Any hope of it being a dream is dashed when Jér rushes into the bathroom, skidding slightly on the tiles. His hair is a curly mess, and the shirt he’s wearing is a little too small, fitting like a second skin, and it’s a lot, enough to distract Phil for a moment from the whole tail thing. “Are you okay?”

“Why am I a mermaid?” Phil asks, the panic in his voice making him sound quite unlike himself.

“You got trashed so we decided that putting you in the tub with an entire box of salt was the best option,” Jér says patiently, like this is normal. “We’re running low on your salt mix by the way.”

“...And I woke up a mermaid?” Phil asks.

“Yes, mon trésor, you woke up a mermaid, because you are a mermaid. How drunk are you still?” Jér looks like he's about to start laughing a little, smirking and looking really good actually, except. Except.

“I'm not Forts,” Phil croaks, with what is definitely Alex’s voice if Alex were panicking and stressed. He looks down at his chest and sees the glittering chain Jér had gifted Alex not even a full day ago, along with what look like huge slits running across his ribs. Mermaid biology is fucking weird and Phil absolutely does not want to think about that, so he focuses on the problem at hand instead. “Jér, I’m not Forts, I’m Phil.”

“You're Phil,” Jér repeats, in a disbelieving voice.

“We used to share beds our first year,” Phil says. “Did you tell Forts that?”

Jér shakes his head, finally looking concerned. “I wouldn't. I wouldn't do that to him, it would hu—” Abruptly he cuts himself off, turning pink. “I wouldn’t tell him.”

Phil tries not to think about what Jér was going to say, because that way lies insanity, but a corner of his brain is thinking about it anyway, about how Jér won’t tell his boyfriend that he used to share a bed with Phil on the road sometimes. About how the word Jér cut off sounded a lot like hurt. “So if you didn’t tell him…”

Jér sinks down onto the tiled floor. “Fuck. Fuck, you really are Phil; how the fuck did this happen?”

“Well, magic, obviously,” Phil says, because it can’t possibly be anything else.

Jér rolls his eyes. “Well, no shit, but is it a curse, is it just a wrong place, wrong time thing, is it something else? There’s reasons for magic, and knowing where it comes from usually helps you figure out how to undo it.”

“Magic’s a real thing?” Phil asks, because Jér knows these things; he’s not making it up. “This isn’t a one-off?”

“My grandmother’s a hedgewitch,” Jér says primly. “So, unless you’re implying that my grandmother and therefore the entire rest of my family including me isn't real, then definitely not a one-off.”

“I didn't know that,” Phil says.

“Yeah, I try not to tell people because the witch hunts here were such a big thing. Even Alex doesn't know,” Jér says soberly. “I'm probably going to have to tell him now.”

“So if Alex doesn't know about your family being witches, why do you know about him being a mermaid?” Phil asks. He's burning with jealousy and trying not to, because he does understand, that it's dangerous for mermaids and witches to be known, but he wants to know why Alex chose to tell Jér and not him. The three of them are all close, but Phil’s pretty sure he’s closer to Alex than Jér is, except that they're dating. Unless that's what it is, that Jér found out because Alex thought it was something his boyfriend should know and Phil’s tail, or like, Alex’s tail is flickering now at the ends, telegraphing his whirlwind emotions.

Jér shrugs and looks a little uncomfortable so it probably is something related to them dating. “So does that mean Alex is in your body?”

Phil hadn't even considered that. “I hope he is.”

“I'm going to call your phone,” Jér says, worriedly. “Because if he's not, we're going to have a hard time.”

“Isn't this already a hard time?” Phil asks, pointing at his tail.

“Oh no, not really,” Jér replies, already on his way out of the bathroom. “Once my brothers switched bodies and fucked up switching back; it took us a week to get Zach back into his body on top of all the time he spent in Emile’s.”

“Jér, that's not encouraging and I'm still a mermaid,” Phil calls back.

Jér comes back into the bathroom, already dialling Alex on speaker. “Alex isn't a deep sleeper; he should pick up soon as long as you kept your phone on vibrate.”

“I think I did,” Phil says, biting his lip. “I hope I did.”

He did. Alex picks up just when Phil thinks he isn't going to, and it's weird to hear his own voice, sleepy and irritated. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Alex, mon trésor, is that you?” Jér asks.

“Jér? Is everything okay?” Alex asks, sounding much more alert and worried.

“You and Phil switched bodies; he's currently in the tub here, in your halfway form,” Jér says into the phone. “You should come over; I can try to get Phil into human form by the time you're here.”

“Fuck. You’re serious?” Phil’s voice sounds so weird, half-concerned and half-disbelieving.

“Wouldn't lie to you about something like this,” Jér says earnestly. “Please?”

“I'll be there in a moment—fuck he’s tall—I gotta figure out where he keeps his car keys,” Alex says. “And pants.”

“There's a pair of sweats over the desk chair; car keys are in my bedside drawer,” Phil says, and hopes Alex doesn't look too hard inside his bedside drawer.

“Yep, found ‘em,” Alex says absently. “My voice sounds weird and you're so much taller than me; this is weird.”

“I have a fish tail,” Phil points out.

“No you don't; the biology is totally different; a mermaid tail is a mermaid tail and a fish tail is a fish tail,” Alex says.

“You two can argue over this later,” Jér says. “We need to figure out what to do once you get here, okay, mon trésor?”

“I’ll be there in 15,” Alex replies.

“Bye,” Jér says, and hangs up. “Now let’s get you back to human.”

“Yeah, how does that work?” Phil asks. He kinda wants to touch the tail, but it’s Alex’s, even if it’s also currently Phil in his body, and it feels rude to do it without permission.

“Alex explains it as thinking about being human again, with two legs, and focusing on the form of it. It helps if you lever as much of your tail out of water as you can; he hasn't been shifting as much and his body doesn't like it,” Jér says. “It's his body’s response, not his mind’s, so it shouldn't be too bad.”

Levering Alex’s tail out of the water involves using muscles that Phil usually doesn't, and Phil can feel Alex’s core muscles working, but they don't burn the way Phil’s would. And he does think really hard about being human, and the way Forts looks, because Jér's instructions were vague as hell, but it works, somehow, something feelings like it’s relatching, closing itself off. His legs ache and his body is contorting weirdly, but by the end of it, he's naked in the tub of what his skin somehow knows is saltwater.

Jér offers him a towel, looking right at Phil’s face. “Be careful how you stand—Alex gets a lot of cramps and soreness from switching back and forth.”

“How weird is this for you?” Phil asks, wrapping it around himself. If his boyfriend had swapped bodies with one of his friends, he doesn't know that he could be as calm as Jér is.

“Internally, I’m panicking,” Jér admits easily. “But it's gotta be worse for you and him than me, so I’m holding on. I’d say it’s the worst for you, but Alex loves being a mermaid; he’s so happy any time we can go to the ocean.”

“Oh,” Phil says lamely, because it still hurts. He just wants to get over this, but they make it so hard, because they don’t treat him any differently, and Jér's face is—he looks so in love.

Jér nods, smiling softly. “Yeah. It’s really good to see. I’ll get you clothes, hold on.”

He disappears again and Phil inches towards the mirror, just to see Alex’s face staring back at him. It’s weird. It’s so fucking weird. The slits on the sides of Alex’s body are still there, but otherwise he still looks the same as he always does. Phil sticks his tongue out at the mirror, and so does his reflection, and it’s weird, and that’s what Jér comes back to.

To his credit, he doesn’t laugh, just offers Phil clothing and leaves so Phil has the privacy to dry off and get dressed.

Alex is already there by the time Phil comes out of the bathroom, and it’s so weird to see his own body in what is not a mirror. Also, he has to look up to meet his eyes and that’s even weirder. “I don’t like this,” he says softly.

“Dude,” Alex says judgmentally. “You’re red but also kinda yellow and something else, and Jér is this soft pretty colour that isn’t a colour. I didn’t know you were magic.”

“I’m not,” Phil says, because he thinks he would know, if he were.

“Phil, it’s not normal to see people in colours,” Alex replies. “I don’t see them like this ever.”

Phil needs to—sit down, honestly. He sinks onto the bed and tries to reevaluate everything and comes up short. “I didn’t know.”

“Is that how you always know when someone’s in a bad mood?” Jér asks curiously.

“I do?” Phil asks. It’s a surprise to him; he’s never been the most perceptive person out there.

Alex and Jér both share a look before turning to him. “You really do,” Jér says. “What colour am I?”

“I don’t know,” Alex says. “It’s just pretty.”

Jér blushes, and Alex sounds utterly fascinated. “It just got brighter.” Okay, they’re very cute, but now Phil misses being able to see everyone in colours, and also feels lonely, with them but not really  _ with them _ .

“Hey, Phil, what colour is Alex?” Jér asks.

“Usually he’s pink? It’s pretty,” Phil mumbles, his face hot. “Sometimes he’s bright red.”

“So, like his tail, right?” Jer asks.

“I guess so,” Phil says. 

Alex sits down on the bed across from Phil, cross-legged. “I feel like I’m missing myself,” he says, softly, sounding absolutely devastated in Phil’s voice. “I can’t feel anything, and it feels horrible.”

“I have open slits in my torso,” Phil replies. 

“They’re not open,” Alex reassures him. “They seal automatically when I’m human.”

“So are these why you’re never shirtless?” Phil asks, fingers hovering over where the slits are in what is currently his body. 

Alex shrugs from Phil’s body, and that's still bizarre as hell. “I mean, yeah. There’s some things I can’t hide, like the gills, and Jér's necklace is a good focusing object for the charm that at least helps obscure the patterns running over my human skin.”

“What patterns?” Phil asks, curious. 

“They're pink,” Jér pipes in. “They mostly run up his sides. Or, I guess, your sides. Which, speaking of, we kind of have a problem.” 

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t you?” Phil asks Jer. “You’re the witch.”

“You’re a witch?” Alex asks Jer, shocked. Shit. Phil had forgotten that Jer hadn’t told Alex about it.

Jer nods, his eyes fixed on Alex in Phil’s body. “My mother’s side is; I don’t have much of a gift. Zach has a lot, and so does my sister; Zach and Emile have done the whole body swapping thing before. It’s not going to be a big deal, you know? Your bodies will react automatically to the things that you need to do, but I have no idea yet, how you’d be changed back.”

“So we’re just going to live like this?” Alex asks, sounding intensely distressed. 

“Alex, mon tresor, I promise I’ll figure it out as soon as I can,” Jer says. 

Phil feels like an outsider again, and it hurts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The stories about mermaids and treasure are true, you know,” Jer says, as Phil fingers the thin chain that Alex wears. It’s been three days, of them switched, and Jer was right, a lot of it is automatic, their bodies making up for their persons being different. “That’s why I bought him that, because mermaids have a lot of traditions about gold and jewelry and Alex didn’t get to have any of them, because he spends so much time on land and away from his swell.”

“Is that why you call him mon trésor?” Phil says, trying to muster up a smile. That’s unbearably cute, Jer making a pet name for his boyfriend based on the thing that’s the cornerstone of his identity.

Jér nods, his cheeks pink. “It was meant to be a chirp, at first, but it really suits him.”

“You’re adorable,” Phil says, even though it hurts to say. This is the most time he’s spent with Jer in months, the three of them sticking super close since the switch, and that crush of his hasn’t gotten better, only worse, but Jer’s a taken man, and Phil would never do anything to impede Alex’s happiness. That’s been true since the first day he made friends with Alex, and Phil is not selfish enough to do anything, not when Jer and Alex are so happy together. 

Jer looks at him. “You should get him something too.”

“But he’s me, right now,” Phil says. 

“For when you change back, but he can still keep it, in the meanwhile. It might make the whole body swapping thing better,” Jer says. “I know he’s not talking about it, but he really is miserable being in your body.”

“I know,” Phil says. Even though he can no longer see the colours around everyone--Jer’s opalescence that’s every colour and no colour at once, and Alex’s gorgeous range of pinks and reds, he can still see their faces, and Alex is quietly miserable in Phil’s body and doing a passable job of hiding it, while Jer is strained at the edges. 

“Maybe a charm for his chain,” Jer suggests. “I bought it so that the links would be wide enough to hold charms, and I was planning to buy him some, but I know it would make him happy, if you bought him something.”

He wants to, is the thing. He knows it won’t be the same as Jer doing it, but if he can give Alex even a fraction of the happiness that Jer did, it will be worth it. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, definitely make them in gold,” Jer says. “But it’s a gift from you; he’ll be happy no matter what it is.”

Phil spends three hours online that evening, when he’s at Alex’s billets before dinner, and picks out two charms--an open work nautilus charm which is delicate like Alex’s chain, and a hanging drop in a red stone that reminds him of how Alex glows, even if Phil can’t currently see it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex skids into the room in Phil’s body, slipping on his socked feet. “I think I might have figured it out.”

“Yeah?” Jer asks, looking up excitedly.

“So it’s partially my body and partially me that makes it up, right, if you’re not just red or yellow?” Alex asks Phil.

“I—yeah,” Phil mumbles. “I didn’t even know about it being magic until we switched, though.”

Jér suddenly sits up. “Alex, you said Phil was a third colour too, right?”

“Yes?” Alex says. “I don’t know what colour though, it’s not a lot.”

“Okay, but that means someone definitely cursed both of you, if there’s traces of someone else on Phil,” Jér says excitedly.

“How does that help if we don’t know who cursed us?” Phil asks.

Jér grins at him. “So, curses are easy to unravel. They’re like math; they have fixed answers. Like, two plus two always equals four, but so does one plus three, but there’s only a certain number of ways to get to four. Usually it’s like finding golden apples, or the fountain of youth, or true love’s kiss.”

Phil’s mouth is suddenly dry. “True love’s kiss?”

Jér's cheeks are slightly pink. “It’s a misnomer; it’s really just about who you love most. Or, I guess if it’s a body swap, you could try kissing each other.”

Phil is about to combust if Jér doesn’t stop suggesting kissing as a solution. He tries for a joke, instead. “What, you’re okay with me kissing your boyfriend?”

“We’re not dating,” Alex and Jér chorus.

Phil’s face is bright red; Alex is hideously embarrassed. “After Jér found out about the mermaid thing, he was helping me so I could switch more, but everyone else just assumed we were dating, and it was easier and people didn’t ask as many questions, so we just let it keep going.”

Phil’s head is reeling with that information. “So we’re settling on kisses?”

“We’re settling on kisses,” Jér says. “It’s the easiest option. Hopefully you kissing each other undoes it.”

It is, but not for Phil’s heart, not now that he knows that neither of the boys he likes are in a relationship with each other. And also because it is really weird to be kissing himself, even if the body he’s in currently is someone else’s.

“You should probably get up,” Alex says, and Phil’s face is an even brighter red than he knew it could get.

He gets up, of course. His palms are sweating like crazy, and his face, even though it’s Alex’s, is flaming hot as Alex who is Phil leans into his space to kiss him, just a gentle peck, but it feels like so much more than that, when you consider just how long Phil has wanted this.

Alex stays in Phil’s space. “That didn’t work, did it?”

“Nope,” Jér says.

“Second option is true love’s kiss, right?” Alex asks.

“Yep,” Jér says, popping the p.

“Pucker up,” Alex says, turning and grabbing Jér's face for a shocking, no-holds-barred kiss. Jér doesn’t do anything at first, but he kisses back eventually, and that’s a lot to watch, Alex in Phil’s body kissing Jér. Also like, really hot.

“What,” Jér says, when Alex finally lets go of him. He licks his lips. “What was that, uh, for?”

“That depends on what you’re okay with Phil hearing,” Alex says, smirking and looking ridiculously smug. “You’re turning brighter again, just so you know.”

Jér is covering his face, but his ears are still bright red. “Oh, this is about that, isn’t it?”

“It sure is!” Alex says, grinning sunnily. On Phil’s face it looks maniacal and honestly, it might actually be a maniacal grin with how pleased Alex sounds. “Can I please tell him?”

“You’re going to, anyway,” Jér mumbles. “This is going to be mortifying.”

Alex frowns. “Hey, no, if you don’t want me to, I won’t. I just think it would be helpful.”

Jér takes his hands off of his face, but he’s still blushing really hard. “Alex and I commiserate over how much we like you like, more often than we should.”

“O...kay?” Phil says, unsure of what, exactly is going on.

“He means that we both like you in a dating kind of way,” Alex pipes in. “Just so you know. Since I don’t think you got that.”

Phil is definitely dreaming. There’s no way he actually heard that. “I’m sorry?”

Jér reaches out for Phil’s—Alex’s—hands and looks right into his eyes. “We like like you. That’s it, that’s all.”

“But Alex didn’t change back after kissing me,” Phil says, rather than actually processing that statement.

Alex is making Phil’s face turn into progressively newer shades of pink and red. It’s kind of fascinating. “But kissing Jér should change you back, shouldn’t it? Unless you don’t like him, but locker room gossip isn’t generally that off.”

And that’s something to consider, that Alex and Jér might have known about his feelings. “No, I do like Jér.”

“Can I kiss you?” Jér asks, looking hopeful.

Phil nods, because he thinks his—Alex’s—voice will crack if he actually has to say it, and Jér grins, leaning in to kiss Phil short and sweet but with intent.

He looks almost disappointed when he pulls away. “That didn’t work either. Why didn’t it?”

“Alex, why did you kiss Jér?” Phil asks, because that’s still bothering him.

Alex shrugs, looking at his—Phil’s—toes. “It’s—there’s only so long you can fake date someone like Jér when it’s Jér. It’s—I get it, I do, I’ll be okay.”

“You don’t get to make that decision,” Jér blurts out, his eyes wide. “You don’t get to say that.”

Phil thinks he’s going to start laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. “Are you both seriously telling me that you fell in love with each other while fake dating and commiserating over your feelings for me?”

“No, that’s not—” Jér starts.

Alex is laughing already. “That’s exactly it, yeah. You make it sound so stupid.”

“It is stupid,” Phil says reasonably. He likes that it’s stupid, because it’s them. “So, just making it clear, we all like each other in a dating way, yeah?”

Alex and Jér are both nodding.

“So then we all date, obviously,” Phil says.

“I’m on board, but I think you should seal it with a kiss,” Jér says, slyly. As if Phil would mind.

He grins and kisses Jér, short and fleeting but it’s even sweeter now than it was earlier. He has to lean up to kiss Alex, and it’s still weird, but the second their lips touch, Phil feels a tug in the depth of his body, and feels himself unceremoniously being yanked out of Alex’s and into his.

“Why did that work?” Alex mumbles, but he’s hugging himself in delight, and Phil is back to seeing him in bright red, and Jér in that pretty shiny every colour.

“I think...it had to be the three of us,” Jér says slowly. “Phil, you’re back, right?”

“I’m back,” Phil says. “We’re still dating.”

“Duh, no take-backs on that,” Alex says, while Jér nods furiously, his curls bouncing with his enthusiasm. It’s adorable, and they’re his, and that makes it even better. “Anyway, we still have four hours till curfew, and you should really see what I look like full mermaid, since Jer already has.”

“Can we go?” Jer asks eagerly, looking at Phil. 

Phil grins. “Okay, but first, I have something for you,” he says, reaching into the bag where he’s been keeping two golden charms. He thinks it might actually be the same as when Jer gave the chain to Alex, after all, and Jer looks surprised that Phil listened, that day, but pleased as well. Phil thinks Jer may have been planning for this outcome, but he'll ask about it later. Right now, he wants to see Alex's reaction, and cuddle with Jer while watching Alex swim, and then, maybe, he'll ask about it, with Alex's backup.


End file.
